Ne Plus Ultra
by greeneggsandsam93
Summary: Summary: Royai. A clerical error forces Mustang's newly appointed Lieutenant Hawkeye to be transferred out of his command and reassigned to Briggs. Mustang will use as many pawns as he needs in order to get his queen back ... without giving his feelings away. (Rated T - may change to M).
1. Checks and Balances

**Summary: Royai. A clerical error forces Mustang's newly appointed Lieutenant Hawkeye to be transferred out of his command and reassigned to Briggs. Mustang will use as many pawns as he needs in order to get his queen back ... without giving his feelings away. (Rated T - may change to M). **

** Disclaimer: I own nothing, I hope you enjoy! Any time you see the dash lines, I use it for a scene change. Sorry for any spelling mistakes! I only own the new characters I create. Such as Angelica Hughes and Leah Blackwater. Please review! I actually started writing this wayyyy back in 2014. I only have a couple chapters completed. I used to write fanfiction more as a teen, but only recently started getting back into it (I'm 26). Maybe I'm doing this for nostalgic purposes or maybe I'm looking for an escape. Who knows. I was actually interested in writing a Harry Potter fanfic, which I may still do, but as I was looking through my documents I found this old forgotten fic. I read through the chapters I created and thought it would be worth, at least publishing this one. **

**Chapter One: Checks and Balances**

Maybe he would fall asleep easier if he were lying on his side. He turned, closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. No luck. Maybe his left side would feel more comfortable. He flipped over. He listened to the radiator crackle in the corner of the room. He sighed; this wasn't any better. Perhaps he should lie on his back again? Knees bent, legs straight, one leg bent the other straight, reversed, then crossed. It was useless. Onto his stomach. He wrapped his arms around his pillow. Hmm. This might work. He buried his head into his pillow as if it was her chest. He tightened his arms around the waist of the pillow. No. Stop. His once dreary eyes were now wide opened. An aching feeling started to settle in his stomach. If he thought he was having trouble before, any hope of sleeping now was completely useless.

He sat up and rubbed his haggard face. He looked at the clock 4:53 am. He yawned; man was he tired. He had had a rough week. There had been some illegal smuggling on the Eastern boarder for some time now and Mustang and his team was slowly working through the grapevine of miscreants to their head honcho. Unfortunately, once the whereabouts of their leader was known, Mustang and his team failed to subdue him. He was a storm alchemist. The storm alchemist had made it rain so hard you would barely see. Mustang's Alchemy was rendered useless and the team was practically firing bind. Thankfully no one was injured on account of the storm alchemist being a complete coward. After ten minutes of torrential downpour and aimless shooting, the weather cleared up. Eagerly, the military men scanned the area for their culprit, but he was nowhere to be found. He fled. The coward didn't even put up a fight. Mustang then had to report to Central to, embarrassingly, account the mission. He and his team were back at square one. Unfortunately more paperwork had to be done before they could move forward with their case – which didn't help Mustang's mood.

The fail of this mission further pained Mustang because this was his first mission since he had been promoted to Colonel. He was promoted at the end of September. He was also given the privilege to appoint his first Lieutenant – which he did without hesitation. A week after his promotion he was given this grueling case. The mission had been passed around like hot potato among the more senior Colonels until it was eventually plopped on Mustang's lap and there was no way he could refuse.

It was now towards the end of December, how much longer would this case take? At this point, he now fully understood why the more senior members passed on this case. Smugglers were like snakes – invisible snakes.

In addition to all of this, his first Lieutenant was absent this week. It is required for newly appointed Lieutenants to participate in a performance review at the end of the first term. At first, Mustang didn't really mind, sure it would be quite boring filling out paperwork at the end of the day without her being there, but nothing he couldn't handle. However, now, at the end of this wreck of a week, he wished, more than anything, to have his first Lieutenant by his side. Maybe if she were facing the storm alchemist she would have had a better eye to shoot him? She was a much better shot than the rest of the team. And even if that weren't the case, it would have been just nicer to have her around. Make this bad week a little more bearable.

Perhaps that was why he was having a hard time sleeping. It was Friday – well, technically Saturday morning – and Hawkeye would be coming back today. I mean, he was happy to see her, ya know, to find out how the performance review went, nothing more, of course.

Later today would also be Hughes' Christmas party. Hughes has always thrown the Christmas party at his place. And every year Mustang tried to weasel his way out of it one way or another. Hughes, however, always manages to drag him there somehow. Although, this year Mustang had a legitimate excuse to not go: "As a Colonel, I should not be fraternizing with my subordinates,". Hughes was rendered silent for a moment before hysterically laughing; "Shut up!" was his response before leaving the room so Mustang could not reason any further.

Mustang sighed, he had a few more hours to kill before he had to report to work in the morning. He figured he might as well continue trying to fall asleep.

Before his promotion Mustang used to have Saturdays off, but now, as a Colonel, he only gets every other Sunday off. He didn't realize just how much more paperwork was involved with this position. He was also required to review his team's paperwork. Although most of the time he would just skim it and sigh at the bottom. In addition, there were also conference meetings every first and last Monday of the month (unless excused on account of a mission), which were mandatory. Colonels were also required to oversee Cadet training once a month and, if you wanted to make a good impression on the higher ups, in July you could volunteer to help with the application process of the new recruits. Mustang wasn't sure if that was something he wanted to participate in, but that was months away.

Mustang idly sipped his cup of coffee as he made his way into the office room. He sat down at his desk and sighed, the pile of paper that sat before him was about two inches thick. He rubbed his face, the sooner he could get this done the sooner he'd finish. It was going to be a lot harder to get his work done without his team sitting in the room with him, keeping him company. He grabbed the first packet of paper that was held together by a blue paperclip. It was Havoc's report of his week's work – including their failed mission. Havoc's handwriting was definitely the worst of everyone in his team. In the middle of readying Havoc's report, he heard the door. He looked up to see who walked in.

"Ah, good morning, Lieutenant," Mustang sipped his coffee, trying to appear casual. Although he was sure that the Lieutenant could not hear his rapid heartbeat.

" Good morning, sir," She started walking towards his desk.

" What are you doing here so early? I didn't think you'd be coming back until later?"

" Would you like me to come back later?" Mustang choked on his coffee. Hawkeye shifted her gaze to the window behind Mustang's desk. What was with that comment? Was she teasing him? Mustang surveyed her appearance. She was as stoic as ever, her face neutral and void of emotion.

Mustang chuckled slightly, "Don't be silly," at that moment Hawkeye placed a stack of paper on his desk next to the stack he already had; Mustang's face fell, "What's this?"

" It's my report on my performance review," she clasped her hands behind her back, " I was told you are required to read it and sign off on it."

He sighed, Great more paperwork, he thought, " Of course I am. I'll get right to it."

" I mean it, sir," she gave him a stern look, " You have to read it, not just skim it," she tapped her fingers on the stack she just presented to him.

" Skim it? I would never do that," Although Mustang's face looked rather guilty.

" I know you skim our reports, Colonel," She folded her arms, Mustang's face fell once again.

" What? But how -?"

" Well, first of all, you finish 'reading' these much too quickly –"

" – I'm a fast reader –"

" – Second of all, I tested you,"

" You 'tested me'?" He leaned back in his chair, his fingered laced together and his chin rested on them; mild curiosity filled his eyes.

" In on of my reports, " she explained, " I wrote a sentence that was completely out of place. It was incredibly random and if you were thoroughly reading it, you would have, without a doubt, caught it," There was a lull.

Mustang narrowed his eyes, " Oh really?" She's bluffing, he thought, " It surprises me you would so something like that, Lieutenant, with a crystal clean military record such as yours, I can't imagine why you would want to have it tarnished by a careless mistake on your reports."

" And if a careless mistake on a report comes to light, it falls on your shoulders because you are suppose to be rereading them." Mustang blushed out of a combination of embarrassment and frustration, "So, I'm telling you, Colonel, read this, all of it," she locked eyes with his.

The Colonel scoffed, " Look who's barking orders, aren't you suppose to be my subordinate?"

" I am your Lieutenant, sir, "she snapped back, a flicker of anger spread across her face, " You and I are a team of equals, something you have been adamant about since day one – "

" – Lieutenant, I – " he messed up.

" A Colonel and a Lieutenant are a system of checks and balances. Clearly you are slacking off on your papers; just because you've been promoted to Colonel, it does not give you the right to become cocky. Paperwork is not 'beneath you' and you shouldn't treat it as such. In fact, paperwork has been elevated in its importance just like every other task you do now as a Colonel," The more she talked, the anger in her voice subsided and was now speaking in a firm, but neutral voice, " I heard about what happened with the smuggling case. Our failure was not due to the leader being storm alchemist; it was due to your impatience – just like your impatience to properly complete your paperwork."

Mustang at first felt sorry, he had labeled her as nothing more than a 'subordinate' when he knew she was much, much more; but now, frustration filled his heart. How could she stand there are talk to him like that? Call him a slacker, cocky and impatient? "I will take care of your paperwork, you are dismissed, Lieutenant," he said briskly.

A brief look of surprise came over Hawkeye's face, was she too harsh? Had she had crossed a line? No. Her face fell to neutral once again, she had said what she needed to say. She clicked her heels and saluted him, "Sir," He gave her a brief nod. She left the office and closed the door behind her with a little too much force.

Mustang got up out of his chair, coffee in hand he walked to the window. He placed his forehead on the windowpane and sighed. He would admit he wasn't taking his paperwork seriously. It was probably the most tedious aspect of being in the military, recording a log of every single thing you've done at the end of the day – everyday. Most days, the reports were boring, but when there's mission he would have to make sure that the reports lined up with each other. For exampled, if Mustang ordered Havoc to do something, he would have to record it in his report. If another officer had overheard this interaction but saw Havoc not carry out the order or do something different, this would come off as suspicious on Havoc's end, Mustang's end, and the witnessing officer's end. Everyone's report had to make sense with each other.

Involuntarily Mustang groaned because he knew that that was what's to come with this week's paperwork – reviewing the smuggling case. He sighed, was Hawkeye right? Was he too impatient with the case? Although how could she make such a statement? She wasn't even there!

" Hey there Roy!" in barged Hughes, loud and cheerful as ever, startling the poor Colonel.

" I don't know If you're aware, Maes, but there's this trend called 'knocking', it's something you do before entering a room," Hughes furrowed his eyebrows.

" I think you put a little too much sass in your coffee today, Mustang," Mustang turned to look at his friend, " Oh – Damn, Roy, you look beat!" Mustang pinched the bridge of his nose.

" I didn't get much sleep last night."

" Yea I can tell."

" I've also got a mound of paperwork to deal with," he gestured to the stacks on his desk, " On top of that, I think I offended my first Lieutenant."

" Huh? What happened?"

" I called her my 'subordinate' in a demeaning way…"

" Hmm," Hughes pondered, " I'm not surprised, she does strike me as more of a dominant type – "

" I said 'demeaning' not 'sexual', you moron!" Mustang growled, his face turning red. Hughes laughed, but before he could think of another witty response, Mustang cleared his throat and said: "She was giving me instructions and I basically suggested that she had no right – given that she's under me, "Hughes gave him a cheeky grin that said it all, "Hierarchically speaking –I - In military position terms!"

"Of course you are!" Hughes winked; Mustang rolled his eyes. The Colonel then noticed that Hughes wasn't wearing his uniform.

" You have the day off? What are you doing here?"

" Well, I came here to see you, to, once again, charm you into coming to my Christmas party," Mustang sighed and slumped in his chair, " Actually, on my way here I found out something that would convince you to come, but given what you just told me I don't know if it'll be quite as effective as I had originally hoped, " Hughes rubbed the back of his neck.

" What is it Maes?" Mustang's voice sounded annoyed. He cupped his tired head in his hand.

" Well, on my way up I ran into Lieutenant Hawkeye, she said she would be coming."

" What?" Mustang's eyes lit up, Hawkeye, although had always been invited, has never gone to Maes' Christmas party, "Doesn't she usually take the rest of her vacation days during this time to see her family?"

" Yes, well, apparently, the week that she usually saves up for Christmas was technically already used up for her performance review."

" Are you serious?" Mustang furrowed his eyebrows, "What kind of vacation if that? That's entirely unfair," Hughes shrugged.

" I agree," a pause, " So will you come?"

" Given what just transpired," Mustang sighed, " Lieutenant Hawkeye's presence gives me more of a reason to not go –"

" – Oh C'mon, Roy, you can't –"

" – I'm sure she would want to have a good time, I'm not going to show up and ruin it for her –"

" – Now hear me out, Mustang –"

" Hughes, I –"

" Shut it, Roy! Now consider this:" Hughes ran a hand through his short brown hair, " Don't you think she would have declined to come if she wanted to avoid you? As much as you make a fuss about not wanting to go to this thing, you always show up anyway, and she's very well aware of that, " he paused, " Besides don't you think by avoiding her now it'll just make things more obviously awkward? So you two had a little disagreement, big deal, it's happened before. Come over, have a couple of drinks, you'll make up and be back to being the two annoying peas in a pod like you guys always are, okay? So just come," As Hughes went on his little speech he slowly made his way out of the office, closing the door so Mustang couldn't respond.

" I –" the door then slammed back open.

" Oh! I also want you to meet my new girlfriend! I'm tellin' you man, she's definitely the one! Okay-I'll-see-you-later-the-party-starts-around-eight!" Hughes popped in as quickly as he popped back out.

Mustang sighed, grabbing hold of Havoc's paperwork once more. Maybe Hughes was right, he should go, if she didn't want to see him, she would've just declined. Hell, she could've lied about her vacation being taken away and just stayed home with her dog. Mustang shook himself. No. He should go to the Christmas party, they're not in high school there was no need to be behaving like this: 'Oh no, Hawkeye's mad at me, that means I can't go to the party!' – No, they were both adults, Mustang could go to the party if he very well wanted to and it'd be fine. Besides, there would be enough people there to avoid her if he needed to and certainly enough alcohol to subdue his nerves.

Mustang didn't show up at Mae's apartment until around 9. He knew he would be getting an earful from Hughes about it – but hey, he did show up. The reason why he was late was because he actually read every single one of his team's reports. It took him forever, editing here and there, writing up afterthoughts at the end of their papers. He was glad to see that his team had taken their paperwork seriously; they were all well written and very descriptive. It seemed that only Lieutenant Hawkeye had picked up on him half-assing his reviews.

After reading his team's individual accounts of what happened on the day they tried to capture the smuggler's leader, he had found that maybe he was too impatient with this case. And most of his team didn't hesitant to mention that; 'The Colonel was quick to command 'open fire'', 'Instead of sending a representative to negotiate with the leader, Colonel Mustang had us storm the area', ' It would have been more lucrative to have had the area surrounded instead of all of us charging from one side'. A knot grew in his stomach as he read these kinds of comments. And it wasn't like his team was trying to sabotage him; they were simply being honest. Not only was he impatient in handling this mission, but he was also incredibly careless – someone could have easily gotten hurt under the conditions they were in – no officer would ever consider firing blind as an appropriate choice of action.

Mustang didn't bother knocking he just let himself in. Nobody was in the foyer, but he could hear many people laughing and chatting away in the living room. Mustang took off his coat it in the closet. He treat Hughes' house like his own and Hughes did the same at his. He was dressed formally, black slacks, white button down shirt, forest green vest (for the Christmas spirit) and a black tie. He smoothed out his vest and straightened his tie before entering the living room.

" Roy my boy you came!" Hughes spotted him immediately. Mustang chuckled a little, "Here, take this!"

Mustang was handed a beer, " Are you already drunk, Maes? Didn't this party only start an house ago?"

" Year, well, I've been drinking since five, so, whatever," Maes was wearing some jeans and a hideous Christmas sweater, it had millions of snowflakes, lights, present and right in the middle was a goofy looking Santa Clause face.

"Hey there, stranger," Mustang turned to see someone else had approached him.

" Oh, uh, hello, Angelica," She leaned her face up to kiss him on the cheek. Forgetting himself, he faltered with the return and accidently brushed his lips on her jaw as she pulled away. After being in the military for so long, he always found himself forgetting normal social interactions such as this, that just were part of his daily repertoire.

She chuckled politely at his expense, "How have you been, Roy?"

Mustang cleared his throat, trying to compose himself, " I've been well, and you?"

" Oh, I've been quite well," she flashed him her very charming smile. Maes stood there watching the two of them lie to each other. He found their awkward false pleasantries amusing and also somewhat sad, "Maes tells me that you've been rather busy, hope they're not working you too hard!"

" It's nothing I can't handle," Mustang rubbed the back of his neck and gave a lopsided smile.

"Well, it seems like you two have some catching up to do!" Hughes elbowed Mustang in the ribs, " don't forget to take care of that beer, alright?" Mustang rolled his eyes as Hughes hopped away singing along to 'Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree' that was playing in the background. A moment of awkward silence passed before Mustang picked up the conversation again.

" So, how's the bakery? Are you enjoying being manager?"

She sighed, but still wore a pleasant expression on her face, "Well, you know I love much job and I have excellent co-workers, but none of them are able to work full time, so I've yet to find an assistant manager," Her thin eyebrows stitched together, "80 hours a week is starting to wear me out, "Mustang took a large swig of his beer, "… but you know, 'it's nothing I can't handle'," She winked at him.

Mustang smiled, but internally he though Damn, not again! Over the summer Mustang was introduced to Angelica (Hughes' cousin) with the intention of being fixed up for each other. It was Hughes' idea, he figured his best friend and beloved cousin were both lonely, attractive people that could use one another's company. It was nice for a while, they went on dates, had sex often – it was incredibly relaxing to fall asleep next to someone. But as time moved on, it became more and more apparent to Mustang that she was nothing more than a distraction; someone to fill the void. And it was during the month of September that he remembered why he was so opposed to meeting Angelica in the first place. He knew she would never be 'the one' in his eyes, in addition he was absolutely awful at break-ups. Luckily for Mustang, he was promoted to Colonel when things starting becoming uncomfortable for him – this gave him the perfect excuse: " I'm sorry, but I need to focus on my career, I know I wouldn't have enough time for you—or 'us'. You deserve better."

As generic as that sounded, it was true. There were plenty o tears on her end, false promises of continued friendship and keeping in touch, he had even had the stupidity to say 'maybe someday' and as soon as he said that he regretted it immediately - the look of hope that lit in her watery eyes made him feel like a complete ass. And now, here she was – winking at him, teasing him, with that same look of hope in her emerald green eyes the day he had ended it with her.

" Hey-y everyone!" The majority of people in the room turned too see that Havoc had arrived. A few greetings were thrown his way as he entered, six pack in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

" Hello there, Colonel," Havoc placed the cigarette behind his ear and shook Mustang's hand. Havoc was dressed somewhat formally, but a bit more festive than Mustang was, black slacks, red button down shirt, black best and a green tie that was slightly loosened at the neck.

" Hello, Havoc, good to see you," Havoc then noticed the redhead standing next to them.

" Why hello there, miss, who might you be?" Mustang refrained from rolling his eyes – not wanting to appear jealous in from of Angelica.

" I'm Angelica Hughes, Mae's cousin," Havoc gingerly grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles.

" Hughes never mentioned he had such an attractive cousin!" Angelica blushed slightly, " Lieutenant Jean Havoc, pleasure to meet you," Havoc flashed a toothy smile , Angelica stole a glance at Mustang to see if Havoc's flirtatious greeting warranted a reaction. She was disappointed to see Roy's nonchalant attitude as he took a final swig of his beer.

"Oh the pleasure's all mine," there was something seductive at Angelica's voice when she said that. Mustang had to hold in a laugh – she was trying to make him jealous, how cute! Havoc received her flirtatious tone like a puppy would to a bone; his blue eyes lighting up.

" Hey, looked like you're about done with that, Mustang," Havoc replaced his empty beer with a new one from his sex pack, " These are Mae's favorite, Guinness Bitter! If I don't give you one now, Maes will surely drink all of them."

" He might want to slow it down, he's pretty drunk at the moment," Mustang informed him as he twisted off the bottle cap.

" Ha- really? Excellent," Havoc then turned to Angelica, " I'm gonna put the rest of these in the fridge, I'll catch you later," He winked and she smiled sheepishly.

Mustang followed Havoc with his gaze as he made his way through the crowd of people. He took a detour and headed for the fireplace to two ladies that were chatting away with their wine. He recognized the woman facing him as Sargent Malcolm. She had shot black hair and was wearing a simple knee-length black dress with what look like a red and pink floral pattern. Mustang was always more thrown seeing female officers out of uniform than the men.

Mustang couldn't recognize the women with her back facing him. She had blond hair, a little longer than shoulder length. She was wearing a red wine colored dress, the sleeves coming down to her elbows and see-through black shale draped around her shoulders. Her feet stood in little black flats.

Havoc greeted Malcolm with a kiss on the cheek and then turned to the blond woman to do the same. It was then he was able to catch her profile and in doing so chocked on his beer ("Are you okay?" came from Angelica in the middle of her rambling on about her new dog which – according to her – would be Roy if he turned into one). There standing bu the fire place with Malcolm was Lieutenant Hawkeye. Hawkeye was not only in a dress but she was also wearing makeup! Not much but enough for Mustang to notice; her lips were a shade of dark red, not quite as dark as her dress, but not as bright as a firetruck. Her eyelids were outlined with black liner, graceful little tips resided at the corners; her eyes shadow was light if there was any.

Many people started to stare at Mustang – including Hawkeye, for he wasn't able to sequester his coughing attack.

"Roy, do you want me to get you some water?" Angelica placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Mustangs face started turning pink after noticing all the eyes on him, especially a certain pair of brown ones.

" No, no ~cough~ I'll ~cough~ go get –"Mustang started making his way though the crowd into the kitchen – making sure not to look over at Hawkeye but knowing full well that she was looking at him.

Mustang stumbled his way into the kitchen interrupting Hughes' make-out session with his coughing fit. The women with curly black hair pulled away looking slightly embarrassed; Hughes, however, wore a cocky look on his face and affectionately held onto the girl tighter.

"C'mon, Mustang, way to cock-block!" Mustang ignored the comment and retreated to the corner cabinet to fetch a glass.

" Oh so this is Roy Mustang?" He hear the woman say as he coughed into his fist. He placed the Guinness on the counter as he filled up his glass with water.

" The one and only!" Hughes announced, then noticing the Guinness he let go of the woman he was holding and grabbed the beer, "Hey! Where did you get this?"

Mustang chugged the glass of water. Relieved that his coughing fit was over, he cleared his throat and said, " Havoc brought some, there's plenty of it, but I told him you might need to slow down, " Mustang wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

" Slow down? Please, I'm fine!" Hughes adjusted his glasses that were slightly askew – as if trying to don a more sober appearance, " Hey, Mustang, this is my girl, Leah Blackwater," Hughes gestured to Leah to come over to properly meet Mustang.

" Nice to meet you Roy," They shook hands.

" Nice to meet you too," Mustang have a weak smile and then address Hughes with a more irritated tone, " How come you didn't tell me that Angelica was going to be here?"

" Oh please, she's my cousin, of course I'm gonna invite her," Hughes took a swig of Mustang's beer before placing it back on the counter, "I invited her here last year, don't you remember?"

" No. Not at all."

There was a moment of confusion on Hughes' face before remembering what had happened the year before, "Ha- ho! That's right of course you don't remember!" Hughes then turned to Leah to clarify, " This guy got completely black-out drunk last year; he went around re-introducing himself to every lady at the party as 'Roy Must-bang!'" Mustang's face was growing redder and redder as Leah started to laugh, " I've got tons of other blackmail on this guy; unfortunately, however, I also had to take care of his sorry ass – puking until all hours of the morning and sleeping on my couch almost all of the next day, " Hughes swung an arm around Mustang.

" Haven't seen him that gone since our cadet days!" Mustang crossed his arms and hid his face under one of his hands.

" Don't forget I have some stories about you too," Mustang gave a slight smile.

" Fair enough!" At the moment Havoc walked in, " Havoc! My man!" Hughes walked over and gave him a manly hug.

"Here ya go Maes, Happy Christmas!" Havoc handled him the remaining five beers of Gunnies Bitter.

" You are the best, Havoc, the absolute best!" Hughes put four beers in the fridge and took one for himself.

"What's so special about this beer anyway?" Mustang asked regarding his own bottle.

"'What's so special about it'?" Hughes was offended by Mustang's question, " Only that it's the best beer on the planet! The other thing about this beer is that it's hard to find. The closest place they sell it at is an hour and a half away!" Hughes swung an arm around Havoc, beaming like an idiot, " Good old Jean, you didn't have to drive all that way man!"

" Ha-ha, it was no problem, really… how about in exchange you put in a good word for me with your cousin?" It was then that Mustang noticed a little red streak on one of Havoc's cheeks. A mark left by Hawkeye's kiss no doubt. For some reason this made Mustang's blood boil. Then a strange thought came to him: Should he kiss Hawkeye once the got around to greeting her? Was that appropriate? Especially since their last encounter wasn't exactly pleasant? He had kissed Angelica – a former romantic interest, so that was appropriate. He shook Havoc's hand, however Havoc greeted Maes with a hug. Leah, he never met before so a handshake makes sense. Havoc had kissed Hawkeye and Malcolm. Maybe he could get away with kissing Hawkeye if he had also kissed Malcolm? Then again, he was hardly an acquaintance with Sargent Malcolm – he didn't even know her first name. No. No kiss, he decided. It wasn't appropriate. Besides, why should this even be an issue?

"Pardon me, folk, I'm going to greet the rest of the party," Mustang grabbed his Guinness and left the kitchen.

'Jingle Bell Rock' was now playing in the living room when Mustang reentered. Looking over at the fireplace he noticed that Hawkeye wasn't there anymore; scanning the room he saw that she had made her way over to the Christmas tree. She was leaning her weight on one of her legs, her left hip popping out, she held her wine in her left hand while she cradled an ornament with her right – getting a better look at it.

" Hughes did a nice job with the tree, don't you think?" Hawkeye recognized the voice immediately and quickly changed her stance; posture straight, shoulders back, feet together, chest out, and she placed her fee hand behind her back, "At ease, Hawkeye," he teased. Her only evidence of relaxing was the slight drop of her shoulders.

" Good evening, Colonel," Her back continued to face him.

" Good evening, Lieutenant," he gave her a curt not - much more appropriate than a kiss. There was a lull, although Mustang didn't detect any tension – but the beer might be having a slight effect with that, "Maes always gets a little carried away with decorations if you ask me," Mustang gestured to the tree. It was lit with colorful lights, silver tinsel hung haphazardly off the branches and the tree was loaded with a combination of classically shinny orbs and goofy trinket-like ornaments. She didn't respond to his comment, simply more silence – was she still mad?

" Have you finished reading my report?" She asked. Mustang's face fell.

" Oh, c'mon, Hawkeye, enough about work, we're at a party!" He shifted uncomfortably as she turn her head slightly to shoot him a stern gaze, " … well to be honest, I didn't have a chance to even start your reports, I was too consumed with finishing the teams' first – which I did."

She turned back to look at the tree, her eyes made their way up to the very top. The star place there twinkled with a warm yellow light. She couldn't really be mad at him, he had done what she had complained to him to do, however: "You do realize, Colonel, that I cannot report back to duty until you've read and sign off on my performance review," Mustang raised his eyebrows at the statement. She finally turned to face him and in doing so, Mustang couldn't help but notice her dress's V-neck opening that exposed some of her chest – he quickly looked away.

" No, I wasn't aware of that," He cleared his throat, " I will finished your review tomorrow, I promise," Hawkeye took a sip of her wine, somewhat satisfied with his answer. Why is she being so cold? He thought irritated.

" Or…" A brilliant idea came to Mustang. He finished off his Guinness and said, "… or I could not finished it tomorrow and finish it, say, Wednesday?"

Hawkeye flashed him a look of disapproval, " Sir, that's ridiculous, why would you—"

" – Well, if you can't be on duty until after I've signed off on your review, you have no other choice but to go visit your family," Hawkeye fell silent and her expression soften.

" Sir, that would be an abuse of power – I cannot allow it."

" 'An abuse of power'? No, I don't think so," Mustang took a step closer to her – a risky move, he knew, but he was feeling confident, " I would be going over your papers at least a dozen times, have other Colonels take a look at it too, make sure that I've selected the perfect Lieutenant. I would be praised for my thoroughness – not be accused of abusing power," He glanced down at her chest again, not but to look at her breast (although maybe he did a little bit), but to look at the necklace resting just below her collarbone, a little charm of a white rose.

" Colonel, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I don't think that would be considered appropriate."

" No offense, but it doesn't seem like you have much of a choice, Lieutenant," He tilted his head mockingly, "You could report me, I suppose, but something tells me you wouldn't do that," Hawkeye stitched her eyebrows together, " Think of it as your Christmas present, from me," Hawkeye narrowed her eye, "Please, Lieutenant, let me do this for you."

Hawkeye couldn't think of anything to say back. He had won. Mustang gave her his award-winning grin; Hawkeye sheepishly cast her eyes down in attempt to hide the slight smile that was forming on her lips, " Thank you, sir."

" You're more than welcomed, Lieutenant," She looked back up at him, her smile remaining on her face for a few more seconds before returning to her neutral no-nonsense expression. God, how had Mustang wished that smile lasted for a few seconds longer?

"Hey Fire Fingers, do you mind giving us a hand?" Mustang turned to see Hughes and Freuy fiddling with the fireplace, obviously unable to keep it alit.

"Alright, stand aside, men," Mustang pulled is alchemist glove out of his back pocket as he walked towards the fireplace. With a quick snap of his fingers, the fire began to roar before them.

" Oh my! That was amazing!"

" What an impressive handling of alchemy!"

" I agree, you must practice a lot!"

Mustang turned as he heard these comments made my three lovely bystanders. He recognized the blonde woman, Sophia, Hughes' neighbor. The other two were brunettes; one of them was rather short, maybe only standing at five foot, but still attractive, nonetheless. The other was probably as tall as Mustang, but appeared an inch or two taller on account of her heals. She had a more masculine built to her body.

" Is fire alchemy your specialty?" Asked the short one.

" Yes," Answered Sophia, " This is the man I was telling you girls about – Colonel Roy Must-ban-ah- Mustang, the Flame Alchemist," Mustang blush, seems like she remembers, he thought.

Luckily the other girls didn't notice the mishap, " A State Alchemist and a Colonel?" asked the tall one – her voice was on the huskier side, " That's quite impressive for someone as young as you."

" Oh, you flatter me, ladies," the alcohol had begun to bring out his more flirtatious, charming side, " And who might you two lovely ladies be?" His eyes sparkled at them.

" Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners?" Sophia remarked, " These are my two good friends from college, Matilda," The taller one, " and Megan," then other.

" Well, it's very nice to meet you ladies," Mustang ran a hand through his hair as he said: " Although I must apologize, ladies, if I cause you any discomfort," He flashed a sly grin, " Things do tend to get hotter when I'm around," as he said 'hotter' he snapped his fingers and a small flame hovered about his thumb.

The girls giggled at his remark, a smug look appeared on Mustangs face.

" Don't be roped in too easily, ladies," Mustang already felt uneasy as Hughes joined the conversation, " He and his fancy fire fingers become impotent when they come into any wet contact," Mustangs face burned bright red; the girls were now giggling even harder. Mustang laughed nervously to try to ease his discomfort.

" Ha ha, oh, Mustang, I'm just bustin' your balls," Hughes clasped a hand on Mustang's shoulder, " No, but seriously ladies, he's a fine catch!" Hughes gave two thumbs up; Mustang rolled his eyes.

" Oh, I'm sure!" Matilda remarked, " Too bad you're off the market, Maes, I adore a man in glasses!"

" I can fix that!" Hughes took off his glasses and placed them on Mustang's face, " There ya go!"

She laughed, " Now that's more like it!" She pinched Mustang's check as if to let him know she wasn't being serious – or so he thought.

" Hey, that's a good look for you Roy!"

" How can you even tell, Maes? You're practically blind!" Mustang squinted and widened his eyes as if trying to see through the lenses, " Here," he took them off, " Before you accidentally walk into a wall."

" Eh, why does it matter? I'm drunk anyways," Hughes turned to leave and in doing so, bumped into another guest, almost falling over completely, had it not been for Mustang who steady him at his elbows, " On second thought," Hughes straightened up and grabbed his glasses out of Mustang's hand, " I'll be taking these back."

" Not a bad thought," as Hughes left to leave the room (probably to go get another beer), Mustang looked back over at the tree to see that Hawkeye was gone. He surveyed the room, this way and that. She was nowhere in sight … maybe she left to use the restroom?

" So," Matilda spoke up. Mustang noticed that Sophia and Megan had disappeared, " How long have you been in the Military, Roy?"

Later that night Mustang found himself pretty drunk. Not the normal kind of drunk he's used to being—foolish, being a loud, inappropriate mess and feeling completely humiliated the next day. At this moment, Mustang took on the role of a quite, isolated drunk, swaying slightly as he traveled around the room. At the moment, he had taken up leaning against the wall next to the fireplace. He ran a hand drunkenly through his hair, making him look more dishelmed, although he didn't think anyone would really mind; everyone was pretty drunk at that point.

Someone (probably Hughes) had cleared away the coffee table in the middle of the room to start up a dance floor. Mustang was never really much of a dancer, even if he was drunk. He was completely content with watching the crowd swirl around before him. They were dancing to 'All I want for Christmas is You'. Most people were dancing; a few others stood around and watched, and in the kitchen a poker game had started.

While staring out blankly at the swirling dancing group, he was taken aback when he saw Lieutenant Hawkeye in the mix. Her cheeks were flushed and she wore her signature modest smile. Spinning her around, this way and that was Cadet Fuery, his glasses threated to fall off his face each time they spun. He became jealous of Fuery's physical contact with his Lieutenant as soon as he saw his hand at her waist. Of course Fuery was harmless, but still, Mustang didn't want him touching her like that. He wanted to be the one spinning her around, he wanted to be the one to make her smile like that, to be the one to grab her elbow when she was caught off balance, he wanted to dance with her.

But he couldn't.

He then noticed that she had taken off her shale. It was at that moment when he realized why she was wearing it in the first place. The back of her dress didn't dip too low down her spin, but it was low enough to expose a little less than an inch of her tattoo on her back. Something she was very particular about keeping it hidden.

He remembered the first time he saw that tattoo…

…

_Roy was seated at his recently deceased mentor's desk. He felt uneasy sitting there, as if, by doing so, he was allowing himself to symbolically replace the man he respected so much. A wave of intense nausea filled his gut. This had been happening frequently for the past three or so weeks since the death of Berthold Hawkeye. Roy clenched his stomach and squeezed his eyes shut, he leaned forward tucking his head in-between his knees. A rush of chills ran down his spin. His eyes snapped open. He couldn't hold it in. Stumbling out of the chair, he fumbled on all fours as he pawed his way to the rubbish bin. He coughed as spat as a mix of bile, water, and whatever little food he had managed to eat last, poured out of him._

_" Master Roy, are you okay?" Roy turned to see Riza at the doorway. He brown eyes were soft with concern as she walked into the room._

_Roy quickly stood up but regretted it almost immediately, he felt dizzy and nearly fell over, but Riza had steadied him in her arms. Roy allowed her help, but quickly became embarrassed by her touch and staggered his way over to Berthold's chair. Roy whipped his mouth with the back of his hand, cold sweat started to bead up on his forehead, " I'm okay," he squeaked out, " I'm sorry, really, I'm fine, Miss Riza," He swallowed his spit a few times trying to clear the taste out of his mouth._

_Wordlessly Riza had left the room to fetch Roy a glass of water. He thanked her and immediately chugged the glass down. She stood about a yard away, watching him gulp down the water, her hands clasped politely in front of her. The glass clanked loudly in the very quiet room as Roy placed it on the desk. The pair then stared at each other for a few moments, both surveying the other, trying to see just how much of a toll the death of Berthold Hawkeye was taking them. Roy was obviously sick; he was thin from lack of food, and his eyes were sore and tired looking. Riza too had looked tired; Roy knew her relationship with Berthold was astringed and complicated, which probably made the grieving process only more confusing for her. He didn't see her cry at the funeral, but sometimes he would catch her fiddling with her eyes when she thought no one was looking._

_" You should lie down," Riza suggested, she walked a bit closer to him, just close enough the place the back of her hand on his forehead, " Feels like you have a fever, Master Roy," Roy blushed at her touch._

_" Don't worry about me, Miss Riza, I'm feeling better now," Roy went to stand up again, but before he could get all the way up the room started spinning before him. He sat back down; he sighed, " Maybe… just for a little while…"_

_Slowly Roy made his way to his bedroom with the help of Riza. Automatically he kicked off his shoes and started undoing his tie, forgetting that Riza was still in the room with him. He froze once he realized he had unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. Riza's gazed shifted this way and that as she mumbled something about making him some tea and rushed out of the room._

_When she returned Roy was sitting up in his bed, wearing some plaid green pajamas. He hardly noticed her come in – he was staring at the wall in front of him, thinking. Riza placed the tea at his nightstand and sat at the foot of the bed. Roy blinked at her, gave her a weak smile as he thanked her for the tea and started drinking it. Normally Riza would have gotten up and left, despite the many years Roy had lived at her house and studied under her father she was never completely confortable around him. They would talk some if, on the rare occasion, they ate together, or sometimes she would fetch bottles of ink for him if he ran out, once or twice she had driven him to the train station when her father could not if he had some other business to take care of. Other than that, she refrained from talking much to him, soft spoken and shy, Riza kept to her own studies and tried to stay out of her father's hair, which meant to also stay out of Roy's._

_" How… have you been?" Roy asked in between sips, although he knew if was a stupid question to ask._

_" Fine," was all she said. More silence. Roy watched her hands shift in her lap, " Is the tea helping?"_

_" Yes, it's very good, thank you," He gave her another weak smile. Roy took a break from his tea and rested it on the table. He began to stare at her in the same, very odd way that she was currently staring at him, " What's on your mind, Miss Riza?"_

_Now she cast her eyes away, she stared out the window, pursing her lips, " You've enlisted in the military."_

_" I have."_

_" Why? You knew how much father detested the State Military." Riza gave him a stern look, a face he had never seen before, but would eventually become used to._

_" I have my reasons," He said evenly and somewhat defensively, his head pounded, he couldn't understand why she wanted to talk about this now._

_" Which are?" Who was this girl? Rather, this woman? When he first arrived to the Hawkeye residence at fifteen, Riza would scurry away at the sight of him and now she was interrogating him like an officer in the State Military herself._

_" Why is that any of your concern, Miss Riza?" Roy rubbed his forehead._

_" I do believe it is, Master Roy," Roy went back to sipping his tea, " You want to become a state alchemist, you want to learn flame alchemy," She said matter-of-factly, saying this Roy froze, " I'm not going to help you learn flame alchemy unless I can trust you. There was a reason why father didn't want anyone to know this craft, so I'm asking you," she paused, " Why have you enlisted in the State Military."_

_Roy face soften, " Riza," He said gently, dropping the formality caught Riza off guard. This would have been the only time he had spoke her name in such a familiar manner, " I know there is plenty of corruption within the military," Roy let his head sink back into the pillows, "Your father had every reason to loath it, but I know that I can do something to change that, to do something good for Amestris – as naïve as that sounds," He chuckled to himself lightly, " I don't believe in fate, Miss Riza, but I've never felt more passionately about something in my life," He stared intensely at her, " It's a gut feeling, it's something I must do; whether or not you help me learn flame alchemy lies completely in your hands; should you choose not to, I will respect that choice, but either way, I will still continue on the path I've laid out for myself, " he coughed, " And I will follow that path with the upmost integrity."_

_He closed his eyes and coughed some more, Riza clenched her fists, " You need your rest," Riza felt somewhat embarrassed, " I'm sorry for getting into this right now, it's just been on my mind," Roy smirked at her._

_" It's alright," She then began the fiddle with the maroon vest she was wearing; Roy's eyes widened, and he twitched uncomfortably – what was she doing? Undressing?_

_" Master Roy there's something I have to show you, and I'd rather just get it over with, so once you're well enough to start studying you'll already know what's in store," She turn around her back facing towards him. Roy's face twitched with confusion. She took off her beige blouse, exposing her naked back. She folded her arms to give herself as much privacy as she could, " This is where you'll find all you need to know."_

…

Peeking out of the kitchen, Hughes was also watching the dancers in amusement, but then his attention focused on Mustang. The look of painful wanting was ever so present on his face. Hughes followed his gaze and saw him watching Hawkeye. Hughes frowned. He knew how much Mustang cared for the Lieutenant, but he also knew how there was nothing he could do about it. He thought Angelica would work out with him, but deep down, he guessed he really shouldn't have tried to fool himself. He really hated seeing his friend like this. And he has been like this for as long as he had known him.

It was around midnight when Hawkeye started to make her rounds to say goodbye, hugging and kissing certain people accordingly. Others were making their way out too, but Mustang didn't have any intention to leave just yet, even though he probably should. The idea of going home to his cold, still apartment seemed unsatisfying. Mustang was chatting with Hughes when Hawkeye came up to wish them good night. She gave Hughes a friendly hugged and thanked him for inviting her.

" Oh, anytime, Riza! I hope you had a good time!" She nodded her head, saying she was glad that she was able to spend the Holiday with them. She then turned to Mustang

" Good night Colonel," Clicking her heels, she saluted him, which irritated Mustang. Shouldn't see be tipsy enough to allow some physical contact with him? He pursed his lips and saluted back.

" Good night, Lieutenant," Hughes frowned, seeing the disappointment in his friends' eyes. Mustang watched Riza hug and kiss a few more of the party members before disappearing out the living room. Maybe the alcohol was still affecting him, but a few minutes after he heard the front door close behind her, Mustang started to head for the door himself. He could hear Hughes call out his name as he walked away, Mustang called back saying he'd only be a minute.

He took the stairs down, figuring that the elevator would take too long. As he exited out of the lobby, he looked down the street this way and that. He could see a blond headed figure only a block away. Running through the cold and snow, Mustang caught up to her, calling her name – well, rather her title, never her actual name.

The Lieutenant turned around in surprise; she was wrapped in a black pea-coat, hugging herself to keep warm, " Is something wrong, Colonel?"

" No, no, everything's fine, Lieutenant," Mustang began to falter as he struggled to find an explanation. Why had he come out there to see her? " I, erm, I just… just wanted to confirm that I won't be seeing you until Wednesday?"

She smiled, " Yes, sir, I'll be seeing you Wednesday," It started to lightly snow. The cold moonlight on Hawkeyes pale face and blond hair made her glow light an angle, " Thank you again, sir, I really appreciate it…"

They stood there for a moment in silence, " Sir, you should probably be getting back to the apartment, aren't you cold?" It was then that Mustang noticed he had rushed out of the apartment without his coat.

" Oh, right," Mustang cleared his throat; he took a step closer to Hawkeye, and then did something he didn't think he would ever do again. He cupped her check with his right hand and leaned down to kissed her opposite cheek. It was quick; he hardly made contact with her skin out of sheer nervousness. Hawkeye was frozen still as the interaction passed. In that brief moment, Mustang was able to capture her sweet sent, something completely indescribably and completely unique to his Lieutenant. The tips of his fingers tingled as he pulled his hand away from Hawkeye's face, " Happy Christmas, Miss Riza."

Hawkeye's face turned bright red. Miss Riza. She hadn't heard him call her that in years, ever since she followed him to the military, never once had she heard him spoken her name like he once did when they were young. Hawkeye blinked at him. Mustang chuckled slightly and started walking back to Hughes' apartment. When he was long out of earshot, Hawkeye's voice came back to her.

" Happy Christmas… Roy."


	2. Emotionally Compromised

**Chapter 2: Emotionally Compromised**

Mustang had done exactly what he had told Hawkeye he would do. He had made copies of her report and kindly asked five of the most senior Colonels to look over her performance review. Mustang himself read through her reports as many times as he could (not quite a dozen like he suggested he would, but certainly more than four times) It had appeared to Mustang that everything was in order. Her weapons handling was spot on, her time trials on her cardio and endurance exams were exceptional, she scored top marks on her comprehension exam and, from Mustang's point of view, her oral questionnaire seemed to have gone over just fine.

However, as Mustang walked to the conference room Tuesday afternoon, he couldn't help but feel like something was not in order. Earlier that day he received a call from Colonel Jefferson saying that he and the other Colonels would be sharing their thoughts on Hawkeye's review. Something in Colonel Jefferson's voice sounded severe, convincing Mustang that this wasn't going to be a pleasant chat about this newly appointed Lieutenant.

He tried to keep an even temper through the remainder of the day until five o'clock came around. He was worrying about nothing. Hawkeye was an excellent solider, an exemplary dog of the State Military – she had certainly proved that much in Ishval. Mustang could not think of a more perfect candidate for first Lieutenant. She was the most loyal, trustworthy person he knew. In addition to her high marks in the other areas on the exam, he could not think of a single reason why his superiors would discourage elevating her position.

Mustang hesitated before walking into the office. He took a deep breath, everything was fine, there was no need to make himself sick over nothing.

"Ah, come in Colonel," Jefferson greeted him in his pleasant voice; Jefferson and the other four Colonels sat on one side of the large oak desk, Jefferson sitting in the middle. Mustang saluted; the five others returned the greeting, " Have a seat Colonel Mustang."

Mustang sat across from Jefferson, " Good evening, gentlemen," Mustang said politely. He rested his hands on the table, his right had was balled in a fist, his left hand covered it so he could dig his nails in the palm of his hand to relieve some of his anxiety without others noticing.

" Good evening, Colonel," It seemed that Jefferson was going to be leading this discussion, " You look well, have you been enjoying your promotion?"

Mustang desperately wanted him to cut to the chase, but Mustang knew well enough that he had to play this game, "I will admit that it is a lot more work, but I have been fortunate enough to have found an excellent team that I can relay on," Jefferson gave him a sly smirk.

" Good to hear, Colonel," Jefferson linked his fingers and rested them on the table, " because you know, you and your team are only as strong as your weakest link."

Mustang remained motionless, what was Jefferson trying to suggest? That _Hawkeye_ was his weakest link? He dug his nails deeper into his palm at the thought of that, " I couldn't agree more, sir."

" That's certainly a relief to hear, my fine young man!" Jefferson chuckled, but there was something dark in his voice, "I must commend you on coming to us for advice, son, it shows a great amount of responsibility on your end!"

" Thank you, sir," Although it didn't sound like a compliment that he wanted to receive.

" Yes, it is most fortunate that you came to us before your little situation got anymore complicated," Mustang remained silent, unsure of what his superior was getting at, " After all, when word got around that you had selected _Riza_ _Hawkeye_ to be your first Lieutenant… people couldn't help but whisper their suspicions."

"Forgive me, sir, but what suspicions might you be referring to?"

Jefferson gave him a quizzical look. He blinked a few times at Mustang before answering, " You can't be serious, Colonel."

" I'm afraid I am, sir, could you please clarify?" Mustang had to muster everything he could to suppress the frustration in his voice.

Jefferson halfheartedly chuckled, "Come now, son, give the act a rest…"

" I can assure you, sir, this is no act," Mustang did not break his gaze at Jefferson, but he could see out of his peripherals the other Colonels shifting uncomfortably.

" Very well, Mustang, continue to wear the mask if you want, but we are all men here," Jefferson started to get frustrated, this pleasantness in his voice was disappearing, " We've been in the military for a long time and when we see something like this it is very easy for us to recognize it," Jefferson pulled out a section of Hawkeye's report that was sitting on the desk and slid it across the table to Mustang, " You can try to act ignorant all you want, son, but we have tangible proof that something unconstitutional is going on."

Mustang hesitated before picking up the packet, breathing evenly to subdue this growing anger.

Flipping through the packet – it was the section of her oral questionnaire that was handed to him – he got to the part that Colonels were referring to. It was a small section highlighted in yellow:

**Q: Now, how would you describe your relationship with Colonel Roy Mustang, Lieutenant Hawkeye?**

**A: Cooperative. We have a very productive and efficient working relationship.**

**Q: Would you say that you are **_**very**_** loyal to Colonel Mustang?**

**A: Yes. I have the utmost loyalty and respect for the Colonel.**

**Q: And not for the State Military?**

**A: I – I'm sorry?**

**Q: Please refrain from answering questions with questions, Lieutenant.**

**A: … My loyalty lies with the State Military.**

**Q: How is that possible when your 'utmost loyalty' lies with Colonel Mustang?**

**A: I was not suggesting that my loyalty lies with Colonel Mustang first and then the Military – I can assure you it's the other way around.**

**Q: Then how come you didn't say that from the beginning, Lieutenant?**

**A: I did not realize what was being asked of me.**

**Q: What was being asked, Lieutenant Hawkeye, was the extent of your loyalty to Colonel Mustang. And did you not just say that your 'utmost loyalty' lies with the Colonel?**

**A: I… I**

**Q: Did you not just say that your 'utmost loyalty' lies with Colonel Mustang?"**

**A: I can assure you that –**

**Q: It is a 'yes' or 'no' question, Lieutenant, I will not ask you again: Did you not just say that you 'utmost loyalty' lies with Colonel Mustang?**

**A:… No…I did just say that, sir.**

That was all that was highlighted. Mustang gave Jefferson a genuine look of confusion. Jefferson had a smug look on his face; his arms were crossed in front of his chest.

" I'm not sure what this is proving to me, Colonel," Mustang slid the packet back over to Jefferson. Jefferson now wore a look of disgust.

He scoffed, " I'm growing tired of your little charade, son. I was hoping you would be cooperative and would own up to your mistake."

" 'Mistake', sir?"

Jefferson slammed his hands on the table, making the other four Colonels jump. Mustang didn't flinch, " Alright, it looks like I'm going to have to spell it out for you!

" It is clear to me _and_ the other Colonels that you and Lieutenant Hawkeye are emotionally compromised and should not be permitted to work together in such close proximity."

Mustang was cool and calm on the outside. Internally, however, he could not think of a more appropriate reaction than to leap across the table and beat the living shit out of him.

" I don't see how you got that from her oral questionnaire, Colonel. It was clear that the wordings of these questions confused her."

" Son, these questions were designed to be tricky," Jefferson tried to match Mustang's cool demeanor, " It is obvious that her loyalty for you supersedes her loyalty to the military."

" I do believe she stated the exact opposite," Mustang voice sounded stern.

" Only once she realized that she had provided an inappropriate answer."

Mustang pursed his lips, he knew the more he challenged Jefferson, the worse the outcome would be, " I disagree, sir."

" Well you can disagree all you want, Colonel, but my colleagues and I have already made our decision."

" What decision?" Mustang's heart raced.

"We have arranged a transfer for Lieutenant Hawkeye," Jefferson raised his eyebrows at Mustang, " It's for your own good – nobody wants to see someone dishonorably discharged from the military because they've fraternized with their subordinate."

Mustang gave a forced chuckle, " I can assure you _nothing_ like that has happened between Lieutenant Hawkeye and I –"

" – Well I'm preventing it!" Jefferson snapped back.

" With all due respect, Colonel, I don't believe you're following the proper code of condu –"

" What's done is done, Mustang!" Mustang's face started to burn. He couldn't believe what he was hearing right now. His head started feeling light, his stomach churned inside of him; cold sweat started to bead up on the back of his neck, " Lieutenant Hawkeye will be transferred to Briggs and serve under the command of Colonel Olivier Armstrong effective immediately."

Mustang could not help but gasp slightly at the new information. He clamped his mouth shut – he _must_ remain calm, he furrowed his eyebrows slightly and gave Jefferson a curt nod, " I see," Mustang rose from his seat, clicked his heels and saluted the Colonels that sat before him, " Thank you for aiding me in my review of Lieutenant Hawkeye's performance." They saluted back.

Mustang turned to leave, it was painful enough to hold in his sheer anger for this long, " Oh, before you go, Colonel," Mustang flinched at the sound of Jefferson's voice, " You must sign here saying you've reviewed her performance."

Mustang swiftly turned around and, with a shaky hand, signed his name at the bottom of the paper.

* * *

Mustang left the conference office without any rush in his steps – wanting to appear calm and level headed, but has soon as the door shut behind him he quickened his pace; his arms swung forcefully back and forth, his eyes were locked dead ahead of him, not daring to look directly at anyone who crossed his path.

"Colonel Mustang! Colonel!" Mustang ignored the voice, but he soon heard footsteps jogging up to catch him. He halted when the pursuer grabbed him by his forearm. He turned to see Colonel Wallace standing beside him. Mustang tried to soften his hardened face. Wallace was one of the Colonels that sat silently (cowardly) by Jefferson's side in the conference room, " Colonel Mustang, I – I just wanted to say that this is _really_ for your own good."

Mustang turned to face him, clasping his hands behind his back, digging his nails into his palm once again, " Personally, I don't see how removing my _best_ officer from my team is doing me any favors."

" Colonel, listen to reason," Wallace was about seven or eight years older than him, the second youngest Colonel after Mustang, " every single one of us sitting in that office wants to see you succeed. A hero of the Ishvalan War, a State Alchemist, and now a Colonel. Great things are to be expected of you, Mustang, and I'll be _damned_ if I see your title revoked and be dishonorably discharged just because of some woman."

'_Some woman!?'_ Mustang thought, his heart picking up speed once again, " Colonel Wallace –

" – Now some of what Jefferson said back there, I didn't completely agree with," Wallace cut him off, " Honestly, I don't think anything funny has happened between you and Hawkeye. And I believe you genuinely don't encourage any inappropriate feelings, in fact, I don't believe you _have_ any inappropriate feelings towards her… Lieutenant Hawkeye on the other hand…" he paused, scratching his neck, " I _do_ believe she has been harboring feeling for you, which to me, is just as bad as acting on them."

Mustang furrowed his eyebrows, he really just wanted to get away from here, " Don't be ridiculous, Wallace."

" I'm not," Wallace folded his arms; " There have been times where I have witnessed other female officers talk about you in her presence. Mostly they remark about your physical appearance and when they do so, Hawkeye immediately shuts down the conversation, commenting on how widely inappropriate they were being."

" I don't see how that proves your point, Colonel."

" I'm getting to that," Wallace arched an annoyed eyebrow, " If you ask me, there's a _strong_ note of jealousy in her voice when she makes those comments."

Mustang scoffed, " You _are_ being ridiculous."

" I don't think so, Colonel, if –"

" Colonel Wallace, unless you're about to tell me that you'll be able to stop this unnecessary transfer and let my Lieutenant remain on my team, I highly suggest that you refrain from speaking," Mustang would normally never act so rude, but he couldn't maintain face for much longer, " I really don't need to be hearing any more _gossip-based _reasons as to why the Lieutenant may or may not have feeling for me, even though nothing has ever happened and she most definitely does _not_."

Wallace sighed, not taking offense to Mustang's outburst, " Very well, Colonel," Wallace saluted him and turned to walk away.

Mustang resumed to his fast determined pace. He needed to find Hughes; he was the only person he could think to go to.

* * *

Hughes was busy when Mustang found him, but had agreed to go out to Madame Christmas' bar to talk about whatever personal issue Mustang was having.

When Hughes entered the bar, he had found Mustang already halfway through his beer. Madame Christmas was giving him a worried look as she idly cleaned a mug. Noticing Hughes' arrival she greeted him with a warm smile, " Hello Maes, good to see you!" Automatically she started to fix him a beer. Mustang didn't even turn to greet him. His chin remained propped up by his right hand while his left fiercely clutched his beer.

" Hey there, buddy," Hughes sat to his left, "What's going on?" Madame placed to beer besides Hughes, he smiled a 'thanks'.

" They took her," Mustang mumbled.

" Took who?" Hughes asked, genuine worry filled his voice.

" My Lieutenant," Madame Christmas stood nearby, close enough to listen to the conversation, but at the same time remaining available to her customers.

" Hawkeye? Someone took her?" Hughes' voice now sounded panicked.

" No, no, not liked that," Mustang assured him, " She has been transferred. She's been reassigned to Briggs." Both Madame and Hughes' eyes widened with shock.

" _What**?**_" Hughes spat, speaking a little too loudly, receiving a few glances, " _Why?_"

Mustang then began to explain in painful detail what had happened earlier today. He even divulged the more intimate details, his racing heart, his cold sweat, his indescribable urge to strangle Wallace when he had called his Lieutenant 'some woman'. By the end of it, Mustang had finished off his beer and got himself two-thirds of the way through his second one.

" Oh man…" Hughes rubbed his face, " Damn Roy…" they sat in silence for a few moments.

" Yea," Mustang mumbled, Madame affectionately rubbed his shoulder.

" It'll be okay, sweetie," Mustang gave a weak smile knowing full well that it would not be okay.

" What am I going to do, Hughes? It's a lose-lose situation," Having thought about this all day, he could not think of any positive outcome, " If I try to fight the Colonel's decision, it'll come off that I'm too attached – too 'emotionally compromised'. And if I don't do anything, she stays in Briggs anyway," Mustang pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

" Why did you…?" Hughes was staring blankly at the cabinet of liquor behind the bar table, "Why did you give her report to the other Colonels?"

Mustang slapped his forehead, " _Because_ I was _trying_ to do something _nice_!" He growled, " I wanted to hold off on signing her performance review, giving her excusable time to see her family! Not want to appear as an 'abuse of power', I had the more senior members look over her review so that my delay seemed necessary!" Mustang's face was growing red; " Little did I know that this whole _damn thing _would bite me in the ass!" He slammed a fist on the table.

" Alright, Mustang, calm down –"

" _Calm down?_ How the hell is I suppose to – OW!" Madame grabbed a fierce hold of Mustang's ear, like a child.

" Sweetie, I know you're upset, but please, don't disrupt the other customers," She made a shushing gesture with her finger. Mustang took a few deep breaths and then downed the rest of his beer, gesturing to Madame for another one, "Alright… but take this one slow," she warned.

Hughes linked his fingers together and rested his chin on top of them. _There has to be a way_, he thought.

Mustang hadn't given up on thinking an alternative way to get her out of Briggs and back on his team. However, he was drunk, and his thoughts kept lingering on the events that happened earlier today, namely with Colonel Wallace. Clearly his opinion of the transfer was swayed by gossip. He doubted that Wallace ever witnessed an instance where Hawkeye had said something out of jealousy. Mustang could not see her doing that at all. Hell, Wallace had gotten the whole damn thing backwards; Hawkeye was the picture of professionalism. Her no-nonsense attitude, her stoic face and even voice _never_ suggested that something 'inappropriate' was going on. It was _him_ that would secretly get jealous when other officers commented on her appearance or even her superb sniping skilled. It was _him_ that would allow his eyes to linger as she left the room. It was _him_ whose utmost loyalty laid with her then the military.

But it was an unspoken truth between them; he knew that she would betray the military to save him and he, undoubtedly, would do the same for her. 'Even into Hell' she had said when he asked her to be his assistant and personal bodyguard. Without hesitation, he demanded that she would be the one to shoot him down should his righteous path falter. He trusted her like he could no one else.

" I've got it!" Hughes announced.

" Got what?" Mustang said distractedly – lost in his thoughts.

" I've got your answer," a triumphant grin appeared on Hughes' face, " You're not gonna like it, but it's better than loosing her altogether."

* * *

Hawkeye hadn't shown up on Wednesday or Thursday for that matter, which greatly irritated Mustang. He didn't want to call her, nor did he want to question his team if they were aware of her whereabouts. He remained patient, looking up each time the office door licked opened; double taking each time a blond head passed by in the hall. It wasn't until about 5:30 on Friday evening did she finally make her appearance.

Mustang was so startled to see her; he practically jumped out of his chair, almost knocking it over. He cleared his throat, somewhat embarrassed, "Good evening, Lieutenant."

" Good evening, sir," In her hands she carried a cardboard box, used to pack up her desk, no doubt.

" Where have you been, Lieutenant, I thought you were coming pack Wednesday?" Mustang tried his best to sound casual when asking that question, and not like a paranoid parent.

She placed the box on her desk, " I did," Mustang furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, " I was given time off to make proper preparations for my transfer," Her voice was even, but Mustang could see the pain in her eyes.

" Oh," a lull, " Do you have everything in order?"

" Just about," systematically, she started packing up her desk; " My cousin is subletting my apartment for the time being… I have almost everything I need packed, " Mustang watched her tuck a strand of golden hair behind her ear, " Although…" she continued, " I haven't found a proper home for Black Hayate, I was thinking about asking Hughes…"

" You can't take him with you?"

" I'm afraid not," Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, " The corridors at Briggs don't allow pets."

" And your cousin?"

" Is allergic," She explained.

" I can take him."

Hawkeye paused what she was doing have raised an eyebrow at him " You'll take him in?"

" Sure," he grinned, " I love dogs!"

" Hm," Hawkeye smirked, " That settles that," She continued to pack her desk in silence; Mustang stood there awkwardly, not entirely sure what to say.

" Did you have a nice time with your family?"

" I did," She said halfheartedly, " up until I received that letter," she seemed more visibly upset now, " I don't understand, sir," She looked up at him, confusion in her beautiful brown eyes, " Why am I being transferred? … That wasn't your idea, was it?"

" No! Absolutely not!" He said defensively.

" I apologized," She seemed somewhat less tense, " I didn't think it was, I just had to make sure."

" Why would I want you transferred? After all -," Mustang cut himself short before saying something he would regret, " Your transfer was not my decision and out of my hands, Lieutenant," he paused, " It didn't say why in the letter that was sent to you?"

" My letter didn't say much, actually," She said evenly, " All it really said was where I was being transferred to, that I was given time off, when I should report to Briggs and whose command I would be under."

" Oh," Mustang blushed slightly, he didn't want to be the one to tell her why she was leaving, " Well, I had given copies of your performance review to some of the more senior Colonels. I wanted to make sure my postponement on signing your papers seemed legitimate," he explained, " After reading through the oral questionnaire, they believe that…" he paused, " That we are too emotionally compromised to be working together."

She blinked a few times, " What?" a mixture of genuine surprise and anger rang in her voice.

Wordlessly, Mustang grabbed his copy of her performance review. Taking out the oral questionnaire part, he flipped to the page that had caused the most scrutiny. He handed it to her, he watched brown eyes under furrowed eyebrows race back and forth across the page. Her face of confusion melted into realization. She plopped the packet of paper on her desk dejectedly. She placed her left hand on her hip, her right pinching the bridge of her nose.

Mustang opened his mouth to say something, but Hawkeye beat him to it, "How could I be so stupid?" she muttered.

" Lieutenant, you can't blame yourself for this."

" I remember that part of the interview. I remember feeling uneasy about it," she said frustratingly, "I should have said something to you."

" Don't be ridiculous, Lieutenant, I, myself, read through your report several times and I didn't think anything of that section," Mustang's voice was slightly on edge, " All I saw in the part was simply just miscommunication – and perhaps a little bullying on the interviewer's end," He added bitterly, " The other Colonels took what you said ten steps too far."

Hawkeye turned her attention to the window opposite of her desk, not wanting to look at her Colonel to see that pained expression on his face, " 'Emotionally compromised'," she mumbled, "unbelievable."

The tension that filled the room was almost unbearable. She was mad. He was mad. And they both felt guilty as all hell, like both of them could have done something differently to prevent this from happening. Mustang had to fight every muscle in his body that ached to walk over to his Lieutenant and hold her in his arms. He wanted more than anything to go over to her and tell her everything would be okay, to divulge Hughes' plan they had concocted nights before to give her some sense of relief, to ease some of her anxiety. But he did not. He couldn't risk discussing Hughes' idea here; he needed to speak to her privately. His feet remained firmly planted behind his desk as he watched her finish up packing her supplies.

" Are you certain you're capable of taking care of my dog?"

" What? You don't think I'm responsible enough to have a pet?" He teased, "Absolutely, Lieutenant, I can take care of him."

Not looking at him, Hawkeye gave a weak smile, " I leave tomorrow morning," Mustang frowned, " I'd appreciate it if you could stop by tonight to pick him up."

* * *

Mustang felt anxious as he walked up to her apartment door, he couldn't believe that this would be the last time he would see her for a very long time. Before he was able to knock, Mustang heard the low rumble of Black Hayate's bark, sensing Mustang's presence. A moment passed by and the Lieutenant swung opened the door. She was dressed casually, jeans, and a grey sweater. She stood in bare feet and for whatever reason that made Mustang smile. He was still in his uniform, coming straight from the office to her home.

" Evening, Colonel," Mustang noticed the slight discoloration in her lips; her breath smelled unmistakably that of wine.

" Good evening, Lieutenant," She stepped aside and gestured for him to come in. There were a few boxes pilled up as he entered her joint living room/kitchen. Briggs men lived on essentials, especially since their corridors weren't particularly large. Black Hayate danced around Mustang as he walked into her home, sniffing fiercely at his boots.

" Seems like he likes you," Hawkeye remarked as Mustang took a seat at her small, round kitchen table, " Forgive me," Hawkeye gestured to herself, " The team took me out for drinks, I don't exactly have my wherewithal about me," She leaned against the countertop, drinking a glass of water.

" That's quite alright, Lieutenant," Mustang crossed one of his legs as he pet Black Hayate's soft little head.

" That's what's left of his stuff," Hawkeyes gestured to a medium box sitting on the coffee table, " Just some dry food, some trick treats, and a couple of toys."

" What kind of tricks does he know?" Mustang was weirdly enjoying himself being in her apartment. He had stopped by a few times in the past to pick her up when they had away missions, but very seldom had be been in her apartment. The casual atmosphere made him feel warm inside.

Hawkeye walked over to her dog and made a gun symbol with her hand. Black Hayate was still as he looked at his owner. Their eyes locked for a moment, "BANG!" At the sound of his master's voice, he flopped over on his back, lying still save for his tail that thumped back and forth, knowing that he had pleased his master.

" Good boy!" Hawkeye said affectionately, petting the top of his head. She reached into her dog's box and picked out a treat, " Always give him a treat after he does a trick," she explained feeding it to him " He tends to cop an attitude when he doesn't get one."

Mustang chuckled slightly, " Alright, I'll keep that in mind," a moment passed before Mustang spoke up again, "Lieutenant, there's something I need to discuss with you."

The casual air died in the room, the atmosphere changed to the same note of seriousness that tends to reside in their office. Hawkeye sat at the opposite end of her kitchen table, the antique overhanging lamp cast a warm glow on the Lieutenant.

" What is it, sir?" Mustang gulped; there was something very tactile about her sweater that made him want to touch it.

" Well," he started, " When I had first heard you were being transferred, I sought out Hughes for his advice…"

…

" _**I've got your answer," a triumphant grin appeared on Hughes' face, " You're not gonna like it, but it's better than loosing her altogether."**_

_Mustang responded with a quizzical and doubtful look; Hughes' voice rang out confidently, " Alright, so here's what I think you could do…_

"_Since Hawkeye is going to be leaving for Briggs, you're going to be required to appoint a new first Lieutenant. In most normal circumstances, everyone on your team would simply move up a position and you would hire someone else for the vacant lowest rank._

" _However, instead of making Havoc your new number one, I think you should hire a new member altogether for the position. Someone young, maybe someone only a couple years out of Cadet Training, someone that would be reasonable to hire but also others wouldn't question you should you choose to transfer or demote this person after the fact._

"_Someone that's right on the line of making it or breaking it. Call it 'giving an underdog a chance' – people will eat that crap up; they'll think it very noble of you to be so inspired by our youth," Mustang rolled his eyes, Hughes ignored him and continued, "You don't want to demote or transfer anyone else on your team, leave them as they are. It's better to demote or transfer a pawn you're not too familiar with._

" _Once you've appointed Lieutenant So-And-So, he or she will go under the same process as Lieutenant Hawkeye did. At the end of the next term your new Lieutenant will have a performance review._

" _Whether the results are good or bad it doesn't matter, the whole purpose of a performance review is to allow the Colonel a reasonable, __**tangible**__ opportunity to demote, transfer, whatever, their first Lieutenant. If a Colonel feels like they're not the best pick for the job – for __**whatever**__ reason, bad chemistry, has found a more compatible subordinate, whatever, the scores and results really don't matter, this just gives a commanding officer an opportunity to change their mind._

" _When that day comes, you will have the opportunity to demote, transfer, whatever Lieutenant So-And-So while simultaneously putting in a formal request to have Hawkeye transfer back under your command as your first Lieutenant."_

_Mustang blinked, his heart filled with hope and then immediately melted into frustration, " This person will have a performance review at the end of __**next**__ term," he sighed, " That won't be until next December."_

_" That's the part of my plan I knew you wouldn't like."_

_" A whole year," Mustang scoffed, " and there's no grantee that it'll work…"_

" _Well, the only other option you could hope for is that Colonel Armstrong dies in which case Hawkeye could request to be transferred back to your command," Hughes took a swing of his beer, " And personally I don't think the entire unite of Briggs could take Armstrong down, so I wouldn't be holding out for that option, Roy."_

" _A whole year," Mustang mumbled again, rubbing his face, " What if it doesn't work? What if my request gets denied? What if -?"_

_" – We will cross that bridge once we get to it, Mustang," Hughes clasped a hang on his friends' shoulder. Madame gave Roy another worried look, " It's the best idea we've got Roy… we just have to be patient…"_

…_._

Hawkeye said nothing; her face was stoic and unreadable. Mustang cleared his voice and tried to lighten the mood by saying, " So… tell your cousin to not get too comfortable here, you'll be back soon, Lieutenant," Black Hayate placed his head on Hawkeye's lap, whining for attention.

" Do you have an unfamiliar pawn in mind?"

Mustang furrowed his eyebrows, " I have a couple of names in mind, but I have until Monday to decide," he paused, " Do you have any recommendations?"

" Personally, that's the only part of Hughes' plan that I'm adverse to," she scowled slightly, idly petting her dog, " using people as mere pawns…"

" Yes, well, I agree," Mustang looked away from her, " but I'm willing to use as many pawns as I need to get my queen back," Mustang regarded his own sentence with slight shock and utter embarrassment. Did he really just say that? He didn't dare look at Hawkeye to see her reaction. He stood up abruptly, turning away from her, he moved towards the coffee table and picked up Black Hayate's box.

Facing her, but eyes casted down, looking at the dog, " You leave in the morning, Lieutenant," he stated matter-of-factly, " It's getting late, you should get a full night's rest…"

* * *

Walking towards his car, Mustang carried the box and Hawkeye carried her dog. Mustang opened the back seat and placed the box inside. He turned to collect Black Hayate, but paused as he saw the Lieutenant affectionately nuzzling her dog, holding him close to her chest. A look of concern washed over Mustang's face.

Hawkeye pulled away from her dog slightly. She looked at Black Hayate's dark eyes and said, " Now you take care of him, Black Hayate," the dog barked happily; Mustang's face fell, " Make sure he doesn't slack off. And remind him that his Alchemy is useless in the rain – I'm not sure why he forgets that so often."

She hugged Black Hayate once more, " I'll miss you," she whispered, Mustang noticed she was looking directly at him as she spoke, " Be good," after receiving a final lick on the cheek, she passed her dog over to Mustang.

" I'm sure I'm in capable hands," he teased, " or paws, rather," Mustang placed Black Hayate in the back seat along with his box. Feeling unsatisfied, Black Hayate hopped over and sat in the passenger's seat, wagging his tail and smiling at his new owner. Mustang gave him a 'you've-got-to-be-kidding-me' look.

Mustang shook his head in defeat and turned to Hawkeye who was visibly cold standing in her little brown slippers, hugging herself. Mustang shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say, " Good luck, Lieutenant," he settled on. He placed a gentle hand on her left bicep and gave her a tender squeeze, " It's been my pleasure working with you," He squeezed a bit tighter, " And I promise, Lieutenant, we'll be working together again before you know it."

Hawkeye gave a weak smile, " I look forward to our reunion, Colonel," Their eyes locked for a moment; Mustang's hand slipped off her arm.

" Do me a favor," he said as he walked to the driver's side of the car, " Don't become one of those high-strung Briggs men while you're there…" _Stay exactly as you are_, he thought.

" I can't promise you anything, sir," She hugged herself tighter.

Mustang saluted her, " Until next time, Lieutenant."

She clicked her slippered heels together and returned the gesture, " Take care of yourself, sir," Mustang gave a curt nod. He couldn't help but smile at the fact that the Lieutenant still held her no-nonsense authority even when dressed in jeans, slippers and a sweater.

Hawkeye stayed standing in the cold outside of her apartment long after Mustang and her dog drove away, telling herself that there was no need to get emotional right now. No man of Briggs wears frozen tears.

* * *

When Mustang got home, he realized he forgot to ask Hawkeye about a dog bed. He settled on taking some pillows off his couch and arranged them in the corner of the living room where Black Hayate could sleep.

In the middle of changing into his nightwear, he heard scratching at his bedroom door and high pitched whimpers. Mustang opened the door a few inches to see Black Hayate sitting there, his tail wagging back and forth.

"What's the big idea? You don't like the living room?" The dog barked back in response. Mustang sighed, " Alright, alright, you can sleep in here", Mustang opened the door wider and automatically Black Hayate jumped onto the bed.

" No-no-no! Not on the bed! _Get down_!" Black Hayate whimpered once more and reluctantly got off the bed, " Good… I'll be right back. Don't. Move."

Mustang went back to the living room to retrieve his pillow set up, he rearranged them in the corner of his bedroom, Black Hayate eyeing him with curiosity, " Alright, you sleep _here_," Mustang firmly pointed to the pillows. Black Hayate walked over and stood on top of them, wagging his tail, watching his new owner, " Okay… now, _sit_!" The dog didn't move, " Sit!... _siiiit…_" Nothing, " Lie down? ... down?" Still nothing. Mustang rolled his eyes, turned his hand into a gun and fired, " Bang!" and Hayate was down.

Mustang shook his head confusingly at the dog, why would Hawkeye teach him 'play dead' but not 'sit' or 'lie down'? He sighed and climbed into his own bed. About 30 seconds later Black Hayate jumped on the bed and curled himself up next to Mustang. Mustang sat up straight and gave the dog a stern look, but soon his expression softened as the dog began to whimper away.

Mustang lied back down, idly petting Black Hayate, " It's okay," he whispered, more to himself than to the dog, " I miss her already too…"

And thus began a series of sleepless nights for the Colonel and the dog alike.

* * *

**Please Review!**


	3. Expect the Unexpected

**Chapter 3: Expect the Unexpected**

Hawkeye gave up on trying to sleep on the train long ago. Normally she would rest her head on the window and stare out at the passing landscape, but the glass was far too cold to be used as a pillow. If she thought winters were bad in the East, she didn't want to think about how freezing it was going to be in the north.

Even though she was on the train, all packed up, had given her keys to her cousin Talia, she still couldn't believe this was happening. And no matter what Colonel Mustang had said, she couldn't help but blame herself for her current situation. After all, if she weren't so hard on the Colonel, maybe he would have refrained from seeking out his more senior colleagues. It was their decision that she was being sent to Briggs, not her Colonel. She was grateful though, to learn that it wasn't Mustang who had requested her transfer. She now felt foolish for asking him in the first place; the defensiveness in his voice when answering her 'No! Absolutely not!' gave her a funny feeling in her stomach.

She should have told him about that one part of her oral questionnaire. Maybe if she had stressed her uneasiness at those particular questions, he would have held onto her papers and silently postponed signing them himself. But really, when it came down to it, what she **should** have done was just given the answer that the interviewer had wanted to hear. She felt like she had committed a sever crime underneath that cool white light, the interviewer bulling her into submission.

But then again, maybe it didn't matter what she had said, maybe it was painfully obvious to the interviewer that her loyalty to Mustang was far greater than her loyalty to the State Military.

Which was true, even though she would never admit that out loud. Perhaps she had always felt to trust him first, before the military, before anyone else, even before herself.

She stared blankly out the window, watching dead, lifeless trees wiz past her gaze. She remembered the day she had decided that this was what she wanted, to join the military, to protect Roy Mustang.

…

_She was lying on her stomach, on her small cot, top half of her completely bare. Idly, she fiddled with a loose string that she had found on her pillowcase. She bit her lip as she tried desperately hard not to think about the fact that she was half naked in front of her father's apprentice. Although, he was always a gentleman about it, leaving the room as she undressed, always making sure she felt comfortable. But still, no matter now nice he was, she couldn't help but feel embarrassed; it was during these session where Riza started to learn how to build up walls around her heart. Over time she had perfected this art of hiding, so much so, that she started using all the time, without even realizing it._

_She shifted the weight on her elbows and immediately Roy asked her if she was okay._

"_I'm fine."_

"_Are you sure? We've been at it for a half hour now, perhaps you should take a break, stand up and stretch a little?" Riza pursed her lips, she hadn't realized she had been lying there for that long. Her shoulders ached a little bit, but she assured him that she didn't need a break just yet. Roy silently went back to work._

"_What does it say?" Riza normally didn't talk much to him during these sessions, not wanting to distract him, but for whatever reason she spoke up._

" _Hm," Roy looked up from his pad of paper, studying the back of her blond head, " Mostly just a long series of chemical properties," He stated, she turned her head slightly to look at him over her shoulder. Their eyes didn't meet, he was look at her back again, " Although, if one thing's for sure," he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, " It seems like someone could cause a lot of destruction with this Alchemy… I understand now why your father was so secretive about this…"_

_At that moment their eyes met. Immediately, Roy shifted his gaze back to his notepad. Riza's eyes lingered; she knew she could trust him, but something stirred inside of her at the thought of him using such dangerous Alchemy._

" _If you do become a State Alchemist," she started, " Do you think you'll be fighting a lot?"_

" _Don't you mean '__**when'**__?" He corrected. Then he was silent for a moment, " Being a State Alchemist is certainly not the most glamorous job, Miss Riza…," He noticed goose-bumps started to form on her back. As he got up to close the window, he said, " The installment of State Alchemists was designed for that reason," the window clicked close, " to have an upper hand in comeback against enemies of the State…"_

_" And while you're protecting Amestris, who will be there to protect you?" Roy couldn't help but smile at her question._

" _That's not a priority of mine, Miss Riza, " Riza furrowed her eyebrows, " And neither should it be a priority of yours, although, your concern does flatter me," he chuckled, Riza narrowed her eyes at him, " How about we take a break? I'll make use some tea…" Roy left the room and closed the door behind him._

_Riza sat up, looking at the closed door across the room. It didn't matter what he had said, she would make it, not only her priority, but also her reason to join the military. As long as she was alive, she would be there besides him, protecting him every step of the way._

…

The train stopped abruptly, so much so that Hawkeye completely feel out of her seat. Collecting herself, she looked out the window. They were, more or less, in the middle of nowhere, a train station was nowhere to be seen. Something was wrong.

Hawkeye opened her compartment door and poked her head out – she wasn't the only one to do so. Men and women of all ages and sizes looked back and forth wondering what was going on.

"Everyone please remain calm! We're experiencing some minor technical difficulties. Please remain in your seats, doors _shut_! I repeat, remain in your seats folks, we appreciate your cooperation!" The man was large and round, his face was puffy and red, prickling with sweat – as if his appearance wasn't already a dead giveaway - the shrill and crackling sound of his voice suggested that he was, in fact, not remaining calm.

Hawkeye turned to see two other train attendants whispering feverishly to each other at the end of the hall. Something wasn't right. She stepped out of her compartment.

" Ma'am, please remain in your seat!" Mr. Puffy-Face bellowed at her.

" I heard you the first time, sir," Her calm, even, authoritative voice threw Mr. Puffy-Face off guard, " My name's Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, I'm an officer of the State Military, please allow me to assist you in any way possible." The attendant surveyed her appearance, glancing at her up and down. There was no way to discredit her claim since she was wearing those unmistakable navy blues.

" Come with me," he whispered. He ushered her down to the end of the hall, the two occupied the uncomfortably small space that connected one train car to the other. Managing to close the sliding door behind them, practically squishing the pair together, faces inches apart, the man let out an exasperated sigh.

" We're _not_ experiencing minor technical difficulties, the train is operating normally!" He confessed. Hawkeye sarcastically raised her eyebrows at him.

"What seems to be the problem?" Hawkeye tried to press her back against the opposite door as much as possible; it was hard to command a sense of authority in such an awkward position.

" One of the attendants was making his rounds," he started to explain, more sweat accumulating on his forehead, " Normally we don't even _bother_ checking the cargo car, but, for whatever reason, this employee did," despite the fact that they had closed themselves off from prying ears, the man spoke in a strained whisper, " and what my coworker found was," he paused, as if it pained him to say the next word, " _stowaways_!"

Hawkeye's face fell, " … Stowaways?" She asked, refraining from rolling her eyes. How could this much panic be made over some stowaways? Surely, this kind of thing must happen often enough.

Sensing her unimpressed tone, the man glared at her, " They are _Ishvalan_!"

Hawkeye's eyes widen. Ishvalan stowaways? How could this be? Now understanding the severity of the situation, Hawkeye's eyes hardened, " Are they still in the cargo car?"

The attendant nodded his head, explaining that the employee that found them managed to contact the conductor using the emergency hotline located in the front of the car.

" One of them is claiming to be an alchemist," he continued, " saying that if we don't continue our journey north, that they will blow us all up!" The pitch of his voice escalated as he spoke, " We can't simply let them get away, not after…" he failed to finish his sentence, but Riza understood what he was getting at, " …but I can't see how we can get those _people_," he said in disgust, " back to Central without endangering the rest of us!"

Hawkeye furrowed her eyebrows, Mr. Puffy-Face had a point; they were in a difficult situation. She considered that the Ishvalan claiming to be an alchemist was bluffing, but Hawkeye was not much of a gambler and thought it best to play it safe, assuming that was what said was true. Perhaps there were other officers on board that she could wrangle up? If the Ishvalans were outnumbered, maybe they would cooperate. No. Time was of the essence, and they had very little of it. She would have to handle this alone.

"Where is the cargo car?"

"It's three cars down," The man gestured directly behind Hawkeye. Without another word, the Lieutenant slide the door behind her open, making her way into the conjoining car, "Wa-Wait!" the attendant called after her, " What are you going to do?"

Hawkeye furrowed her eyebrows in a combination of annoyance and determination, "I'm going to do the best I can," she said matter-of-factly.

As Hawkeye made her way down the hall, she assumed a quick and efficient pace, worrying that if she broke out in a run, passengers would become suspicious; although, she did notice some curious glances as she passed one compartment after another.

Her mind began to race. She had a pair of pistols in her holsters, fully loaded, in the event that she needed to use force. However, close combat shooting wasn't necessarily her forte, and from what she understood, there were multiple Ishvalan stowaways. Hawkeye was confident that she could take on two men by herself, but what if there were four or five? Four or five Ishvalan men, one of them might be an alchemist, they were in the middle of nowhere – this situation was far from ideal.

Making her way to the end of the second car, she could see through the small window of the sliding door the face a very frightened, young male attendant. He was clutching a small red candlestick phone in both of his shaking hands, staring off to one side; Hawkeye assumed he was relaying a message from one of the stowaways to the conductor.

In one smooth motion, Hawkeye swiftly opened the door, pulled out both of her pistols, cocked them, and aimed in the direction that the young man was facing.

To Hawkeye's surprise, she did not see four or five burly Ishvalan men. Instead, standing before her was a young Ishvalan woman, no older than Hawkeye herself. Her right arm was outstretch, five fingers extended dramatically in Hawkeye's direction. Behind the woman, a yard or two away, was another, much older, Ishvalan woman, perhaps nearing 60 or 70. Four Ishvalan children surrounded the older woman, all of whom were clutching at her rather tattered dress. Three young boys, no older than ten and rather gawky looking teenage girl. The girl wore a peculiar expression, one of extreme terror and upmost disgust regarding the navy blue uniform.

Hawkeye bent her elbows slightly as if to pull back, but then immediately locked her arms straight. Just because they weren't what she was expecting, doesn't mean she should let her guard down.

"Stay back!" yelled the woman with the outstretch arm, " I'm warning you, I'll blow this place up!" Hawkeye could feel that the attendant had moved strategically behind her out of the line of fire.

For a moment Hawkeye said nothing, surveying the woman before her. She was thin, dark circle frame her veiny red eyes. Her hand began to tremble and tears were threatening to fall. In that moment, Hawkeye knew she was no alchemist.

The Lieutenant turned her head slightly towards the attendant, keeping her eyes on the woman before her, "Get yourself out of here," she commanded, " Tell the conductor that an officer of the State Military is taking care of the situation."

The young man didn't need to be told twice, he ran out of there without even properly hanging up the receiver. All was quite except for the frantic muted mumbling from the conductor on the other end of the line, clearly unawares as to what transpired.

Hawkeye uncocked her guns and slowly put them back in their holsters. She raised both of her hands in a gesture of truce, " I'm not going to hurt you," she said softly.

The Ishvalan woman still had her arm extended, her eyebrows furrowed determining if she should trust the officer before her. When the atmosphere didn't change, Hawkeye took out her each of her pistols and, one at a time, unloaded them, dropped them to the ground and kicked the weapons out of the way.

The stowaway tilted her head in confusion at Hawkeye. Deliberately, the Ishvalan lowered her arm, her eyes narrowed at the officer as she said, " We want to go north," she raised her chin in slight indignation.

" I don't believe you're in a position to make demands," Hawkeye countered. Another lull occurred until one of the young boys started to cry, the elderly woman tried to sooth him with calming words without much luck. Hawkeye spared the huddled group a glance before returning to conversation, " Why are you travelling north?"

The woman pursed her lips before saying, " The north are a tolerable people," by saying this, it was clear she was implying that Hawkeye's people were not, " We are going there to seek asylum," her voice was defensive, " We hear there are places that will grant people like us sanctuary."

Hawkeye furrowed her eyebrows. Clearly, none of these people, especially the children, had a hand in the Ishvalan Civil War, they were innocent civilians. However, the law conditions that any and all Ishvalan persons were considered enemies of the state – regardless of class, age or gender. Not reporting the stowaways to Central would, without a doubt, get her dishonorably discharged faster than Havoc could light a cigarette.

The Lieutenant felt a knot in her stomach as she stared into the estranged red eyes before her. When she first started out in the military, she would blindly follow orders, especially any given by her former Colonel. Even during her time in Ishval, she didn't bat an eye as she perfected her sniping skills, but those targets were simply just… targets. Little black humanoid figures, hundreds of yards away. But now, standing before her were actual people with identifiable features; she couldn't help but empathize with the teenager, being somewhat gawky herself during her adolescence.

Hawkeye sighed, and turned to the red candlestick phone, picking up the receiver that still hung dejectedly.

" Hello? Is the conductor there? ... Yes, I … Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye… Yes, I have _subdued_ the stowaways," She paused, eyeing the perplexed expression on the Ishvalan woman's face, " I can assure you, they pose no immediate threat. There is no reason for us not to continue north… I am fully capable of assuming responsibility for the terrorists… You're quite welcomed, sir, I promise to be discreet," and with that she hung up the receiver and turned back to the 'terrorists'. The youngest boy had stopped crying, intently listening to the officer's conversation.

" We… we're going north?" The young woman asked tentatively, the slightest bit of hope present in her voice.

" I cannot guarantee that you will receive sanctuary," Hawkeye confessed, " … but at the very least, you can avoid execution… "

The woman narrowed her eyes, " And what is the alternative to execution?" her voice was back to being harsh, " _Slavery_?" She scoffed, " Am I supposed to feel _grateful_?"

Hawkeye donned her notorious stoic expression, " I could've shot you."

" I could've blown the place up."

" No, you couldn't have."

The Ishvalan clamped her mouth shut. It was easy to fool a frightened young inexperienced train attendant, but she decided to own up to truth. After all, there was no deceiving a dog of the military, " How did you know?" she asked.

Hawkeye shrugged, " Lucky guess," The Ishvalan mouth twitched into something of a smile, she wasn't expecting such an amusing response.

" Do you rely on _luck_ to make all of your decisions?"

" No," Hawkeye looked at the other woman thoughtfully, " I supposed it was more intuition than luck…" she paused, " The longer I sever in the military, the more I'm beginning to trust my gut feeling. Logic will only get you so far…" she looked over at the children, " And it is my gut that is telling me to take you all north … and not turn this train back around to Central."

Silence filled the cargo car once again, but the atmosphere that was once tense turned into an air of mutual understanding.

" Perhaps it was luck that, of all the officers serving, you were the one on board with us today Lieutenant Hawkeye," The elderly woman spoke, starling both the Lieutenant and the young woman. The children around the elder still clung to her, but the group seemed to loosen their grip, eyeing the officer with apprehensive curiosity, " My name is Gavriila, and these are my grandchildren," the women gestured to the children around her as well as the woman who stood before Riza, " Thank you for showing us mercy, my child."

" Like I said," Riza emphasized, " I can offer no guarantees - " Gavriila raised a wrinkled hand to silence her.

" You're doing the best you can," Her red eyes were more of a maroon color, Riza noted. The Lieutenant hadn't realized there was much variation in Ishvalan irises, but looking around at the group, they all had reddish colored eyes of varying degrees. The boys' eyes were lighter, looking more pinkish than red, the woman and the teenaged girl shared an eye-color that appeared to be more of a red-orange hue.

_Ishvalans are people too,_ Riza thought, _they have every right to be protected._

A moment later, the train shook abruptly.

They were headed north.

* * *

Sweat dripped from his temples as he performed a series of complicated alchemic flames. Using his whole body, holding back a strained grunt, he completely incinerated the target before him. Unsatisfied, Mustang incorporated a few more fireballs, twisting his body this way and that to get just the right angle. The integrity of the target faltered, crumbling into a pile of ash under the heat of Mustang's fury.

Mustang glared at the flaming pile before him. The alchemy slowly died, as there was hardly anything for the fire to hold onto. The wind started to pick up as a steady stream of smoke emanated form the ashes; the cold breeze extinguishing the flames all together.

The Colonel wasn't intending to practice his alchemy today, but when coming into work this morning, his feet, for some reason, took him to the training field instead of his office. After casting his first flame, he realized just how much pent up aggression he held.

He barely got any sleep last night, he told himself it was because he was unaccustomed to sleeping with a dog, but he knew the real reason.

As Mustang went to retrieve his overcoat, he noticed a spectator watching him at the end of the field. With everyone in his or her navy blues, it was hard to identify the person from far away. As Mustang walked closer, the anger that he thought he dispelled, quickly returned.

Standing there, with a somewhat smug look on his face, was Colonel Jefferson.

Mustang clenched his teeth upon seeing the senior officer – Jefferson was the last person he wanted to be interacting with right now. Nonetheless, Roy continued his stride, not pausing for a second, towards the colonel.

" That was a rather impressive set Colonel!" Jefferson's overcoat billowed around him as the wind howled, " You pack quite a punch with those flames of yours," He eyed Mustang deliberately, " It must be a great way to get out some pent up aggression."

Mustang, innocently, cocked his head, as if unawares as to what Jefferson was implying, " I suppose so," Mustang pulled off his gloves, and stored them in his breast pocket, " Perhaps I'm still a bit frustrated with the outcome of my failed mission."

Jefferson's lip twitched in a slight smirk, as if amused by Mustang's response, " Don't beat yourself up son," He patted Mustang's shoulder, much to Roy's irritation, " Nobody could've expected that their leader was an _alchemist_."

" If the military has taught me anything it would be to expect the unexpected," _Not that I expected to loose my first Lieutenant_, he thought bitterly.

" Ha – I suppose you're right there," He paused, Jefferson dipped his head in order to look at Mustang over his glasses, " However," he said, his voice becoming less congenial, " Nobody's first mission as a Colonel goes over well…

" In fact, that is what we will be discussion come Monday," He continued, Roy furrowed his eyebrows in response, " At first, this case, while tedious and time consuming, didn't pose much of a threat to security. Of course smuggles do infringe on the development of our economy… but most of the time these individuals are rather harmless and are looking for a quick buck.

" Now that we know their leader is an alchemist it might be best if we have this case… redistributed."

Mustang folded his arms " You want me off this mission." It wasn't a question.

" Clearly, Mustang… this mission is beyond your capabilities."

Mustang's face started to burn, " Sir -"

" This order comes from above me," Once again Jefferson was peering at him from behind his glasses.

The bustling sound of wind filled the lulled that fell between them, " Fuhrer Bradley?" Mustang asked.

Jefferson gave a curt nod, " Like you said Colonel," he paused, a smug smile appearing on his lips, " Expect the unexpected."

Mustang pursed his lips, willing to keep his emotions in check. He would not give Jefferson the satisfaction of knowing just how much this situation bothered him, " Thank you for letting me know, Colonel," he mustered, " Now if you'll excuse me, I must be headed back to my office," the men saluted each other stiffly and with clenched fists, Mustang started to walk away.

" Oh and Mustang!" Jefferson called out; Roy halted, but didn't dare turn around, " Don't forget, you also need to established who your new first Lieutenant will be by Monday."

Mustang didn't trust himself to respond appropriately. Without another word, he continued his pace, the wind wiping through his raven hair.

* * *

Hawkeye learned that Gavriila had five sons - four of which were unquestionably dead. Her eldest son and father of both the young woman, Avis, and the teenaged girl, Elham, was missing. They all assumed the worst, but Hawkeye could tell by the way they spoke of him, that they hadn't lost hope just yet.

" We saw some violence… " Avis explained, " but, somehow, father learned that the State Alchemists were on their way," Avis looked over at her sister, " He sent Elly and I to go fetch Gran," she gestured to Gavriila as she spoke, " Luckily the boys were there for a visit, so we gather them up as well… and from there we went into hiding, leaving Ishval before the real horror started…" she paused, " we were the lucky ones…"

The seven of them sat in something of a circle, there were plenty of boxes and luggage in the cargo car to be used as chairs, two of the three boys sat on the floor cross legged near the feet of their grandmother.

Elham stood up from her seat suddenly, arms crossed and a scowl on her face, " Were _you_ in Ishval?" Her voice hadn't quite matured just yet, there was still a sense of youthfulness in the way that she spoke, but the accusatory tone was not lost on Hawkeye.

" I was," she admitted calmly.

" Are you an alchemist?" Elham's red-orange eyes narrowed.

" I'm not."

" My child, Lieutenant Hawkeye is not solely responsible for the war," Gavriila interrupted gently.

" Just because she isn't a State Alchemist or that _monster_ Bradley doesn't mean she wasn't part of the problem!" Tears started to prickle at the corner of teenager's eyes, " How can you both sit here and calmly talk to her?" Elham berated her grandmother and older sister. She then pointed an accusing finger at Hawkeye, " _She's_ one of the enemy!"

Hawkeye remained as calm as ever on the outside, even though on the inside her heart stared to break from guilt. It seemed that the anger and venom that was once present in Avis at the beginning of their interaction was now transferred to Elham.

The Lieutenant glanced back and forth between the two other women in the room, wondering if either one of them would say something to calm Elham down. However, the older sister and grandmother remained silent, perhaps they didn't know what to say, or perhaps, on some level, they internally agreed with the teenager's accusing words.

Hawkeye shifted slightly, what could she possibly say to the young girl, who's blazing red-orange eyes currently bore into Hawkeye's muted brown ones, daring her to respond? The seconds ticked by slowly until Hawkeye said:

" I'm sorry…" all six heads turned to Hawkeye in surprise, " I know my apology means close to nothing, perhaps nothing at all," she spoke in a soft voice, " I can't speak on behalf of my fellow officers, nor can I speak on behalf of Fuhrer Bradley…" Elham's eyes softened some, but she still wore a fierce expression, " I can't claim to know what it's like to be driven from your homeland… but I do know what it's like to lose someone you love at a young age such as yourself…" Hawkeye cast her eyes down to the floor for a second before returning to the teenager's gaze, " and for that, I'm truly sorry. You shouldn't have to go through this pain," She then regarded the other Ishvalans in the group, " None of you do."

And lull occurred until Elham spoke up once again, " You're right," she said, her eyes narrowed, " Your apology means _nothing_."

A fleeting expression of pain and regret flashed across Hawkeye's face. Elham sat back down on the large brown suitcase, wrapping her arms around her legs; she rested her head on the top of her knees, facing away from the group. The Lieutenant didn't blame the girl for her aggression. Hawkeye knew that Elham was looking for someone to blame, and she guess that this was the first time the teenager ever had a conversation with a State Officer – a perfect target.

Hawkeye looked over at Avis who wore a pensive expression on her face, " I can't say I accept your apology either…" she admitted, "… but your remorse feels… genuine," Avis gave Hawkeye a measured look, " and for that I'm glad."

Gavriila leaned over towards Elham, placing an arm affectionately around her granddaughter, " It is okay to feel angry for a time," she said, " but someday you will have to let that anger go before it consumes you," Elham lifted her head to give her grandmother a confused look, " For that is the way they truly win," she explained, " Staying angry and not learning how to move on."

At that moment, the seven of them lurched one way as the train came to a screeching halt. The group looked around apprehensively at one another, unsure how all of this was about to unfold.

Hawkeye made her way to the red candlestick phone to speak to the conductor. After a few words were exchanged, she hung up the phone with a 'clank' and turned to the Ishvalans.

" We'll disembark after all the passengers are off train…" walking over to the corner of the car, she picked up a pile of spare rope, usually used for securing the cargo, " If I'm going to try to get you all out of here, we'll have to make this look believable," She explained, " We won't get very far if I'm suspected of being an Ishvalan sympathizer…"

The family understood, and one by one each Ishvalan held out their wrist, allowing the Lieutenant to bind them together.

* * *

By the time Mustang made it back to his office, his anger barely subsided. How dare Jefferson openly mock him, deliberately trying to push Mustang's buttons? Things were bad enough the this man was the driving force behind Hawkeye's transfer, but now he was being humiliated further by being taken off a mission he failed miserably at – he was being robbed of any chance to redeem himself!

Mustang threw open his office door in frustration, startling his second Lieutenant so much so, the man nearly fell out of his chair.

" Goddamn, Colonel! You tryin' to give me a heart attack?" Havoc theatrically place a hand over his heart as if to calm its rapid pulse.

" I believe you're confusing me with your cigarettes," Mustang snapped.

Havoc pursed his lips; he wasn't taken aback by his Colonel short temper, knowing full why he was in a foul mood, " It's gonna be okay chief…"

Mustang sighed as he sat down at his desk chair across from Havoc; ignoring Havoc's words of encouragement, he asked, " Is there something you wanted, Lieutenant?"

Havoc shifted uncomfortably, he wasn't sure if this was exactly the right time to be discussing this given his Colonel obvious bad mood; but the fact was, they had to talk about this, and they were running short on time, " Um, well, yes…" he started, rubbing the back of his head.

" And?" Mustang drummed his fingers on his desk impatiently.

" Well, um, I…"

" Out with it Havoc, I haven't got all day."

" Right, sorry sir," Havoc cleared his throat, " In the interest of time, I was wondering if I could start filling out the necessary paperwork in order to fill…." He was about the say "Hawkeye's spot" but instead he said, " … the vacant position."

Mustang pursed his lips, it wasn't wrong of Havoc to assume that he would move up in the ranks. The Colonel grimaced; this was going to be an awkward conversation. Hughes and Mustang agreed that the less people who knew about their plan to get Hawkeye back the better. Roy trusted his team with his life, but this was a secret he felt he had to withhold from them, " There's no need."

Havoc furrowed his eyebrows, " Sir? " he asked.

" You will remain in your current position Lieutenant," Mustang tried to hide his guilt, knowing the Havoc will be disappointed.

" Oh…" he said after a while, looking away from Roy, " Falman?" he asked.

" No."

If was possible, Havoc looked more confused, " Not Falman?"

" That's what I said."

" Then who?" He demanded, a clear edge to his voice.

" I'm not sure yet," Mustang admitted, " but I have some names in mind."

Havoc looked at him like he had three heads, " Wait," he paused, " you're bringing in someone from _outside_ our team to be your first Lieutenant?" He asked in disbelief, " Someone completely new?"

" Someone different," Mustang amended. Havoc stood abruptly. He could see the hurt in his second Lieutenant's eyes, as if, somehow, this was an act of betrayal.

" I will stand by your decision, sir," Havoc said through gritted teeth and clenched fists, " but I must say… this wasn't what I was expecting."

Silence filled the room for a second before Mustang asked, " Is there anything else, Lieutenant?"

Unlike Mustang, Havoc had zero control over the expressions on his face, the officer was clearly upset, " No sir," Havoc clicked his heels and saluted his superior, " Glad we cleared this up."

Mustang gave him a curt nod. Havoc turned and briskly walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a little more force than normal. Mustang sighed once more; it was just about a week ago when his former first Lieutenant exited his office in similar fashion.

Hawkeye was gone, his case is about to be taken from him and now his second Lieutenant was mad. This was shaping up to be a great year…

* * *

**Please Review! I know this chapter was significantly shorter than the first two, and perhaps a bit uneventful, but it's to set up for more action packed chapter that will follow! I hope I don't disappoint!**


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